


Chimichanga

by thelilnan



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Blow Jobs, Feeding Kink, Hand Feeding, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 22:31:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1202938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelilnan/pseuds/thelilnan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie really likes Fat Mac's belly.</p>
<p>Warning for mild dub-con and forced feeding kink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chimichanga

Luckily for him, Fat Mac wasn’t too wary of any offer of food, no matter who or where it came from. Luckily for him, Charlie had stolen enough money from Dee and Dennis over the week to cover one _humongous_ order from the closest Mexican restaurant. And luckily for him, Frank was out for the night, meaning Charlie and Mac had the shit hole apartment to themselves.

Charlie had turned on one of Mac’s favorite movies on his admittedly tiny and badly worn television but once they started chowing down on the garbage-bag quantity of burritos, chimichangas, and tacos, details weren’t an issue. Charlie did alright in the consumption department—two hard-shell tacos and a burrito—before his considerably smaller stomach was too full for more. Mac, on the other hand, wasn’t even half full. That was fine by Charlie. It was mostly for Mac anyway. He was just so fascinated with how much his friend could put away with all that extra appetite. Well, call it fascination, but a smaller part of Charlie, in a nervous voice, said it was something else.

The movie was over by the time Mac was starting to slow his pace. There was still quite a lot of food left and Charlie’s “fascination” made him want to see if Mac could really finish it all off. Armed with another beer, Mac attempted to clear his current burrito, but it was slow going. He wheezed quietly and sat up.

“Good movie, bro.”

“Yeah. You gonna finish that?”

Mac regarded the small handful left, “Maybe. You want it?”

“No man, go for it.”

Spurred on by that little push of encouragement, Mac fought the wall accompanying any eating marathon and downed the last of his food. His stomach was beginning to hurt in the way it always did when he was carbo-loading for his next pump at the gym (though he usually ended up taking a nap instead) and he laid back against the couch once more. Mac groaned with mild pain and rubbed at his taut stomach, aching with the considerable stretch.

“Ah, shit, ate too much.”

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” Mac burped suddenly and covered his mouth, “Ah, just gotta... digest a bit.”

Charlie screwed up his nose and regarded the boxes of food left over, “What about the rest of the food?”

“Throw it in the fridge. I dunno why you got so much in the first place, dude, it’s just us.”

Charlie tried not to sound frustrated, “I just thought you could handle it, but if you’re too much of a wimp...”

A flare lit behind Mac’s eyes at the insinuation of a possible twink-like physique. He sat up as quickly as his girth would permit and grabbed another box of two more tacos, quickly downing one before speaking again, “Of course I can! Just give me a second, Jesus.”

Charlie smiled and watched Mac force himself to eat the rest of yet another take-out box. Mac was sweating a bit from the exertion (not that he would ever admit it) and wheezing quietly. He tried to collect himself before starting another of the three boxes remaining before collapsing back into the futon. There was a limit even a man of Mac’s impervious ego would have to admit to. Mac was a second from waving the flag before he felt the push of a forkful of chimichanga at his lips. His eyes opened as the food was pushed into his mouth, silencing the weak and startled protest.

“Just three more boxes, buddy.”

Mac groaned weakly and chewed, “Charlie, what the hell?”

“My fridge doesn’t work, you know that. And I don’t wanna waste food! I spent my own money on this!”

Guilt battled with agonizing pain in Mac’s gut. Begrudgingly, he allowed Charlie to spoon feed him bite after bite, fighting back the nausea in his throat. A little over half of the chimichanga was gone before Mac protested adamantly, “Charlie, I feel like I’m gonna explode.”

“You’re almost done, dude! Don’t puss out now.”

Mac moaned but allowed the slowed feeding until the chimichanga was finished but pressed a hand to Charlie’s chest when he moved to get the next box, “Seriously, Charlie, I’m about to puke!”

“It’s just a couple of tacos and beans left, Mac. Come on.”

“No! Shit, Charlie, my stomach fucking _hurts_ , okay? Jesus. I’m gonna have the shits hardcore tonight and it’s all your fault.”

Charlie thought a moment before pushing Mac’s shirt up, revealing his very swollen stomach. Mac frowned and shoved at him but Charlie just pushed his hands to Mac’s belly and began rubbing it the way his mom would when he used to get stomach aches. In an instant, Mac was moaning with relief and melting into the couch once more, lulled by the gentle kneading. Charlie continued to press and rub his belly until the food settled but his hands kept feeling past what was strictly necessary. It was as much a comfort for him as it was for Mac, feeling the heat and weight of Mac’s exotically distended stomach.

Mac was always in pretty good shape growing up, even if he had a little bit of ponch on his lower belly—ponch that distracted Charlie in high school, when they were changing for gym class, with that little trail of hair disappearing down under the waistband of his boxers. The hair was still there on the fuller stomach, thicker with age, and just as hypnotizing. Mac was half asleep by the point Charlie’s hands wandered to his crotch, half-hard from the massage and sheer relief of being able to comfortably digest. Mac’s eyes shot open and he shouted but not before Charlie could give him a good, firm squeeze that made his protest trail off into a moan.

“Charlie,” Mac whined between breathless pants, “The fuck are you doing...??”

“Nothing, dude, you’re the one who’s hard.”

Mac squirmed, one hand half-shoving at Charlie, but he never told him to stop. He just whined and bucked his hips into Charlie’s hands, slowly getting harder as Charlie teased him through his jeans. But one hand was always on his stomach, feeling it clench and move with whines and inhales, which drove Charlie crazy in a way he didn’t understand. When it wasn’t enough to simply pet him with one hand, Charlie climbed down between Mac’s legs and pulled his jeans and boxers away, watching Mac’s dick curve up against his belly, hard and hot. Charlie licked his lips and looked up at Mac, who moaned pathetically, hands grabbing at the couch and his own shirt.

Charlie had never sucked anyone off before, but he’d seen pornos and could ball park what would feel good. He was careful to keep his teeth away and tried to make his mouth as soft and wet as he could, but he didn’t have to try too hard before Mac was sobbing with pleasure. Anything Charlie did drove him wild; and fuck him for ever trying to say he was a hard-ass top. Charlie had never seen one for himself, but he knew without a doubt Mac was as bitchy a bottom as there could be.

“Please...!” Mac bucked, shaking like a leaf as Charlie slid halfway down his length, “O-oh God!”

Meanwhile, Charlie let his hands roam over Mac’s swollen belly, squeezing and massaging as he saw fit and humming with his own pleasure. He never thought he’d wind up like this or be so happy about it, but with Mac’s dick in his mouth and belly under his hands, Charlie found he’d never been quite so content. He could be there for hours, sucking and massaging, until Mac was crying for release. For some reason, Charlie liked that idea even more but his jaw was getting tired after just 15 minutes, never mind an hour. And Mac was getting antsier by the second, clearly desperate for release.

Charlie began bobbing his head in a consistent rhythm, hoping that would work Mac up enough to finish off, while his hands strayed higher to Mac’s chest. Mac’s pecs had gotten bigger along with his stomach (and the rest of him) and were nearly A-cup breasts by now. Apparently the swelling had increased their sensitivity as well, as Charlie found out upon his first squeeze of Mac’s tits. Mac wailed and came instantly down Charlie’s throat for a long moment before settling into the futon, shaking terribly. Charlie swallowed what he could, deeming the taste to be Not That Bad, before climbing on the couch beside his friend. Mac was sensitive and couldn’t bear to cover himself up just yet, so he looked to Charlie instead. A million different questions flooded his mind in that moment, but he settled for asking, “You need help?”

Charlie bit his lip, just now realizing the painful erection he was sporting, and nodded. Without a word, Mac opened up his jeans and pulled him out, stroking firmly until Charlie’s breath hitched. Charlie grabbed his wrist and pulled just so, so that when he suddenly came a second later, it landed across Mac’s still exposed belly. Mac wrinkled his nose and scoffed but Charlie just hummed into his hair.

“Dude. What the fuck.”

Charlie shrugged.

“I’unno.”

And that was where they left it.

End.

**Author's Note:**

> I hammered this out in under an hour, apologies for errors and weird prose.


End file.
